


The Secret Magical Power of Quentin Coldwater

by magos186



Series: The Teddy Chronicles [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-03-02 13:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magos186/pseuds/magos186
Summary: The others are gone and Quentin is left alone in Castle Blackspire with a monster. Even without possessing Eliot, there’s just something The Monster likes about Quentin.Direct sequel to Don't Mess with the Coldwater-Waughs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is going to be dialogue-heavy. Fair warning.
> 
> This is a direct sequel to Don't Mess with the Coldwater-Waughs. It picks up Quentin's story after the end of that.

“You’re not Ora,” a voice said behind him. Quentin turned from where he was staring at the “door” the others had just left through to find a young blond man in a tunic standing there. 

“No, I’m not. She had to leave, but she asked me to come keep you company. My name’s Quentin, what’s yours?”

The man’s eyes glowed for a moment and his face drew down into a confused frown. “I don’t – I can’t remember. Ora called me love or darling, but those are not names. I don’t think I ever had one.” He tilted his head to the side, staring intently at the magician before him. “You don’t seem scared of me.”

“Should I be scared of you?” Quentin asked calmly. “You’re not the first god I’ve met.”

“Really? Have you met that barbarian Enyalius?” The Monster asked with a sneer.

“No, that name doesn’t sound familiar. I’ve met Umber and Ember, although they’re both dead now.”

“I don’t know them. Were they powerful?”

“Mostly they were a nuisance. Some bad things happened and Ember got mad at Umber and killed him.” 

“Good for him. I have several gods I’d like to kill myself.”

“Why?”

“They _took_ something from me, though I can’t remember what. I know it was important though. I have trouble remembering most things from…before.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“How did the other one die? Ember, you said?” The Monster asked after a moment.

“I actually, I actually killed him?” Quentin ran his hand along his neck nervously. “He was hurting people. He was going to kill them.”

“And thaaat’s bad?” The Monster asked, a confused look on his face.

“Yes, killing is bad. Those people didn’t deserve to die just because some god got bored with them.”

“I don’t like being bored.” 

“I don’t think anyone likes it. Can I ask you something?”

“You talk a lot,” The Monster grumbled.

“It’s how you get to know someone.”

“You want to _know_ me? Why?”

“I’d like to be your friend.”

“ _Friend?_ ” The Monster asked, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. 

“Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, but no one has ever wanted to be friends with me before. The other gods didn’t like me. Ora didn’t like me. She was mostly scared.”

“Just because you’re powerful doesn’t mean you scare me. You haven’t given me a reason. Did you ever hurt Ora?”

“No, she played games with me to keep me distracted. I think it was mostly that the gods told her bad things about me. But maybe I was scary when I destroyed the others who were here. I didn’t like them.” Neither spoke for a moment before the monster randomly said, “You said you had a question.”

“Oh, yeah. Do you like the dark?” Quentin asked, gesturing around him. “I mean, if you do, that’s fine, but it’s a little gloomy in here.” 

“I have to admit that I have been here so long that I don’t really remember much else.”

“Do you have someplace you like to spend your time? I brought some cards. I can show you some tricks, teach you how to play some games. I can also create a mini-sun, maybe help you remember how it feels to be in the light.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was night when the Muntjac pulled up next to the balcony of the throne room of Whitespire, allowing the questers to slip into the castle unnoticed. They’d made a pit-stop to the Northern Orchard, now the home of the Fairies, to present Irene as a gift to the new queen. If the frightening smile on her face was any indication, they wouldn’t be having an issue with those creatures ever again.

“What do we do now?” Kady asked as the group moved into the throne room. 

“I’ll have some food brought up and some rooms prepared,” Teddy offered. “We can all eat and get some rest. In the morning, we’ll start out research on how to save dad.”

“I’ll throw this one in a magic resistant cell,” Eliot said, his hand on Alice’s arm, her arms trapped behind her back with his telekinesis. “We can dethrone and banish her in the morning.”

“Might I offer another course of action?” Dean Fogg asked. 

“Serrated spoon?” Margo asked viciously.

“Nothing quite so dramatic,” he said calmly. “I have a potion that will give her an entirely new life with no memory of this one.”

“She wants to take it, she can do it tomorrow, after she’s banished. She betrayed us, she betrayed her crown, whether she wore it much or not. She is still a queen of Fillory and as such she will answer to the High King for her actions,” Eliot said sternly. “Penny, if you’d be so kind as to escort the Dean back to his school. Henry, thank you for everything you’ve done for us over the years. We wouldn’t have come this far without you, but I’d appreciate it if you get the hell out of my kingdom and don’t come back.” He then escorted Alice from the room and down to the dungeons, into the Whitespire version of Brakebills’ “white room.”

Penny looked torn, still holding onto a weakened Julia. “Go ahead,” she said softly. “It won’t take long and I need to rest.”

“You can use Q’s room,” Margo offered, moving over to them. She supposed she could be nice to the hedge now that she’d helped save them and magic. 

“I got her,” Kady said as she moved to Julia’s other side, gently taking her from Penny’s arms. He watched the three women leave the room before making his way to the Dean and traveling out of Fillory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Not to give spoilers, but Quentin has a depressive episode in this chapter.
> 
> Also, the plan was for this to only be 2 chapters, but the second half of this one came out of nowhere and I felt like it needed to be it's own full chapter instead so there'll be one more after this.

Two months had passed and the group was no closer to finding a solution on how to get Quentin out of Blackspire than when they started. If they weren’t cut off from The Library, they might have made more progress, but everything they’d been able to find so far was more myth and less fact. They’d tried talking to Callie again, but she had nothing new to offer. Josh had gone to Bacchus and Julia had summoned Iris. Neither god was helpful, claiming they didn’t know anything. Iris did insult Julia in a long rant though. 

“We need a different approach to this,” Julia said, plopping herself down at a table in the Whitespire library. 

“We’ve come at this every way we could think of,” Kady replied, frustrated. “We need to face facts. We couldn’t save Penny and we can’t save Quentin.”

“What if we talked to someone besides a god?” Josh asked. “They’re not being helpful so we go to a different source.”

“Who?”

“A dragon?”

“Seriously?” Kady scoffed.

“What? We know they exist. We know they’re portals. We know they’re just as ancient as the gods, at least some of them. There’s no harm in asking right?”

“Q and I went to see one when I lost my shade,” Julia offered. “She didn’t much like us, so I doubt she’d help.”

“Yeah, but she’s not the only one. We know there’s one in The Abyss, though that’s probably not the best one to talk to,” Josh said with a frown.

“Okay, so we can ask Fen if she knows of any others here in Fillory. If not –”

“If not, I can go back to Earth and ask Poppy. She’s obsessed with dragons. She has to know of at least one that could help us,” Josh offered.

“Well,” Julia said, “At least we have something new we can tell the others about.”

~~~~~~~~~

The rulers of Fillory were in the middle of a council meeting when two men suddenly appeared on the floor. “Help him,” a blond man said weakly, referring to the man he was cradling in his arms, heedless of the blood dripping from his own nose and mouth. Eliot immediately shouted for a healer as he, Margo and Teddy rushed over to the pair. “Can’t – can’t wake,” the blond muttered before falling over unconscious.

“Q,” Eliot said reverently, pulling the younger man into his arms.

Several healers rushed into the room a minute later and they immediately began casting over both newcomers. Margo dismissed the council, not wanting them to be privy to anymore gossip than they already were. It felt like an eternity before Opal, the head healer, spoke. "There is nothing physically wrong with King Quentin. His mind is quiet, like a dark room,” she explained. Teddy and Eliot exchanged a look and sigh. 

“What?” Margo asked. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Catatonic depression,” Eliot said. “When his depression gets severe enough, if there’s nothing or no one around to help, he goes catatonic,” he explained.

“For how long?” Margo asked.

“I don’t know. The worst it’s ever been with me is a couple weeks.”

“Six months,” Teddy whispered. He carefully lifted his father into his arms and left the room. The two he left behind sat there in shock. 

“Your majesties,” Opal said a few minutes later, “I would like to take our patient to the infirmary.”

“Of course. Can you tell us anything?” 

“We’ve stopped the internal bleeding and I believe with the right spells and potions we can repair the damage. However it seems that in getting here, he has depleted his magic completely. I believe he is much like Lady Julia.”

“So he’s still immortal, but powerless?”

“It appears so, your majesties. I cannot say if his power will return. With your permission, we’ll move him now so we may treat him.” The High King nodded, raising from the floor and moving out onto the balcony. He was followed a few moments later by Margo.

“El, he’s here now. He’s safe. If our healers can’t do anything, then we’ll go get his meds and find him a magician shrink who can adjust them if needed. He’ll be okay.”

“It’s my fault,” Eliot said quietly, leaning heavily on the railing, looking out over his kingdom.

“Honey, it’s not. His brain ‘breaks’ sometimes, remember?”

“I know, but it’s my fault it’s broken this time. When that whole thing happened with The Mosaic, after you stopped us going through the clock and we came back here with you, we got back our memories of our time there. Quentin asked to be with me. He wanted to give it a shot here, in this time, but I –”

“Baby,” Margo said softly, placing her hand on his arm. 

“The two of you are my best friends Bambi. I couldn’t risk screwing that up and losing him so I sent him away. And we all know how that turned out – Poppy and Benedict and his dad and it was just one thing after another with no time for him to process and then The Monster…”

“Eliot, listen to me,” Margo ordered, reaching up to take his face in her hands. “We are his friends, his family, and we will take care of him. He’s going to be fine. And once he’s better, the two of you can talk. You can make it up to him. You’ve been obsessed with him since the moment you met. We know that somehow, The Mosaic timeline happened and you lived your lives together. Your son said that you were happy and in love. I know you’re in love with him now and that you have been for a long time. I could see it on your face the day he put that crown on your head. Take a chance on him. He won’t hurt you and if he does, he’ll have to answer to me okay?” The two smiled wide before wrapping their arms around each other. 

“Thanks Bambi.”

“You’re welcome. Now, put on your big girl panties so we can go fix everyone’s favorite nerd.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing has taken on a life of it's own and there will be several more chapters, some of which might be depressing, including this and chapter 4.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” High King Eliot said as he walked into the room from which yet another servant was fleeing. “They just want to help.”

“I don’t need their help,” Ted replied angrily, pulling the blanket up to Quentin’s chin and tucking him into the bed. He had already bathed and dressed him in soft, comfortable clothes. “I can take care of my own father. I’ve been doing it for long enough.” 

“You’re not the only one who cares you know.”

“Really? Because it feels like that sometimes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Eliot asked, confusion in his voice. “You know that I –”

“That you what Papa? That you broke his heart and then sent him off alone on a quest where he had to deal with a manifestation of his depression?” 

“I –”

“You decided fifty years was enough, you didn’t want to spend anymore with him?”

“No, of course not. He’s one of my best friends.”

“Just not the man you want to marry.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why Papa?” Teddy asked softly, running his fingers lightly through Quentin’s hair. “Why did you reject him? Why isn't he good enough for you? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Eliot sighed and sat down heavily on the opposite side of the bed. He bent one leg up on it, glancing at his son before looking down at the bed, picking at the blanket. “I’m not the same person now that you knew. Back then, life was simpler. I had no other responsibilities, no other distractions.”

“So you were only with dad out of convenience,” Ted said as a statement, not as a question. “He was just a distraction from the tedium of the mosaic.”

“That’s not – strike that and reverse it,” Eliot said sadly. “He was only with _me_ out of convenience. He’s not gay Teddy. The way our lives are now, who we are now – he wouldn’t choose to be with me. I wasn’t enough for him then. He chose your mom. I won’t be enough for him here.”

“You’re an idiot,” his son replied simply.

“Excuse me?” Eliot said indignantly.

“You do know that dad is pansexual right? And I know that he’s not the poster boy for monogamy, but when has that ever been an issue? You two did sleep with Aunt Margo didn’t you? And you already had a wife when you were with him. You and Aunt Fen are still married. As kings of Fillory, you’re both allowed to take a husband and a wife. Just because he was with mom doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with you. He’s been in love with you for a long time, since before you even started the quest to bring back magic.”

“He never said anything,” Eliot said shocked.

“He asked you to be with him that day in the throne room. He put himself out there, just like he did at the mosaic, but this time, you said no. You didn’t want to risk your heart so you broke his, just like Julia, just like Alice, just like mom. It’s a wonder he still has any love to give.” Teddy kissed his dad’s forehead, readjusting the blankets before walking out of the room. He needed to get away from his papa for a while. He loved Eliot. He never saw him as anything but his father, but Quentin was soft, vulnerable. He wore his heart on his sleeve and when he loved someone, he gave that person part of it. Eliot had the biggest part and when he rejected Quentin, he’d smashed it. How many more times did his dad’s heart have to be crushed before he stopped trying and simply became the shell he was now?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Minor insulting of Jane Chatwin in this chapter. And by minor I mean it’s only one line. 
> 
> A/N2: I’ve been listening to the Pop Evil albums while writing this and a whole bunch of the songs make me think of Quentin (and a couple of Eliot). In this chapter I will be using the Pop Evil song Somebody Like You Acoustic. The words of the acoustic version are a little different from the album version.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter mentions the death of Old Quentin from the mosaic timeline. Also mentions of depression.

“Hey Junior,” Margo said as she sat next to Teddy. She’d heard the last part of his “discussion” with Eliot and followed him out to the gardens, where he sat on a bench near a large peach tree. She left him alone, the look on his face showing that he just needed some space. She placed a guard at the entrance and told him to make sure the prince was not disturbed. After that, she went about her day. When she finished her tasks several hours later, she went back to the gardens and found her nephew in the exact same spot.

“Hi Aunt Margo,” he said softly.

“You holding up okay?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he replied resignedly.

“I’m sorry kid. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that he’s back, but it can’t be easy to see your dad like that.”

“I know you want to ask – about the six months. That’s why I said it was a blessing when his heart finally gave out. When Papa passed, it was rough. He’d lost both people he loved, lost the reason he came to Fillory to that manipulative Watcher-Woman bitch. He was devastated – consumed by his grief. I stayed with him at the cottage the first few weeks. As much as I didn’t want to leave him, I had to. I had to get back to my job, my wife, my kids. He swore that he would be okay, that he was through the worst of it. I brought the kids to see him as often as I could. They helped, for a little while. One day, about a year later, I went to visit by myself. I found him in bed, unresponsive. By the smell of him, he’d only been like that a few days. I got everything cleaned up, including him, but he was too thin. There wasn’t much food in the cottage and I knew then I couldn’t trust him to look after himself. I sent for my wife’s brother, Aster. Fie, his eldest daughter, had just finished her healer training. She helped bring dad around and agreed to move in with him. I was afraid how dad would react if we changed anything at the house though so Aster and I built her a space next to it. It was small, just a bedroom, washroom and a workroom so she could see other patients as well. 

“After that ‘episode,’ he didn’t go catatonic again, but he wasn’t the same. It took too much effort for him to try and put up on a happy mask for the kids so eventually I stopped bringing them. They missed him, but I didn’t want their memories of him to be tarnished by the ghost he had become. It was better they remember him smiling, happily playing with them.”

Teddy paused to take several deep breaths. Margo stayed silent, understanding how hard it must be for the poor kid to relive all this. She took hold of his hand, squeezing it in support. He took a few more breaths and continued, heedless of the tears on his cheeks. “Every year on the anniversary of mom’s passing, and later Papa’s, we’d dedicate the day to them, doing their favorite things, cooking their favorite foods. We’d end the day by laying flowers on their graves and just talk to them for a while, tell them all about what they’d missed that year. On the fifth anniversary of Pop’s passing, I could tell something was different. I didn’t know what, but I could feel it in the air. Instead of doing one of his favorite things, dad insisted we do something the three of us loved to do together. So we baked up a breakfast pie, grabbed some fruit and bread and wine and had a picnic near the stream about a mile from the cottage. Dad was weird. I don’t know if he felt it coming, but he spent the day just talking, telling me all about the things in his life I didn’t know. It was the most he’d said in years.

“He told me how much he loved me like a dozen times, how proud he was of me. He made me promise I’d tell the kids how much he loved them. He had letters and drawings for each of them at the house. He picked the flowers that grew along the stream for Papa’s grave. When we got back home and he laid them down, instead of talking, he started singing. It was something I’d never heard from him, but I knew from the words that… well…I wrote them down,” he said as he handed her a parchment he pulled from his pocket. “I find that I can’t speak them.”

_My yesterday has taken my tomorrows_  
_My empty heart can’t take no more_  
_It’s hard to live with no-one to follow_  
_Where’s the hope that I had before?_

_I watch the seasons fade_  
_My face still out of place_  
_Each step I can’t deny I’m in trouble, tell me_  
_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Somebody like you, tell me_  
_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Please tell me it’s almost over_

_So many things in this room remind me_  
_Of being here next to you_  
_Well, these scars consume my mind and body_  
_Where’s the hope that I once knew?_

_I watch the seasons fade_  
_My face still out of place_  
_Each step I can’t deny I’m in trouble, tell me_  
_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Somebody like you, tell me_  
_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Please tell me it’s almost over_

_I’m sitting and listening, laughing and wondering_  
_I’m watching the stars go by_  
_Everything reminds me of you_  
_And I can’t get you off my mind_  
_How can I live, how can I live_  
_How can I live without you in my life?_

_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Somebody like you, tell me_  
_How can I live without somebody like you?_  
_Please tell me it’s over, it’s almost over_

_How can I live without you?_  
_When I’m watching the stars go by_  
_How can I live without you?_  
_And I can’t stop thinkin’_  
_My heart’s still beating_  
_But I’m still alone without you_

“Oh Teddy,” Margo said softly when she finished reading. She pulled him into her arms and let him cry on her shoulder. 

“The next morning he was catatonic. He never came out of it. I lost my mom to a broken heart. I don’t want to lose my dad too, not again, not so soon,” he whispered between sobs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys. I got sucked into the Stargate. I hope you like this...It's kind of dialogue heavy.

Ted Coldwater (the first) sat at his son’s bedside. It wasn’t the first time he’d sat, holding his son’s hand while Quentin laid unmoving on a bed, but it would probably be the last. Once magic was restored, his grandson had come to see him. Teddy told him what happened in Blackspire and begged him to come to Fillory. The kid knew his cancer would come back and didn’t want him to face it alone. He wanted to spend as much time with his grandfather as possible. So with the help of Teddy and some of Quentin’s friends, Ted packed up his house. They shrunk down everything so they could put it in storage in Whitespire. He cancelled subscriptions, closed all his various accounts and updated his will. He put his lawyer in charge of selling his house, having the woman put the money from that and the rest of his estate into a trust for his son. The last thing he did before leaving was to call his ex-wife to let her know that he was dying, that everything had already been taken care of, and that he was going traveling with his kid. She didn’t need to know more than that. 

The sound of someone opening the door to the room pulled the man from his thoughts. He looked up to see a young blond man in a simple white tunic with white pants staring at the still figure in the bed. “It’s okay to come in,” Ted said kindly. The young man didn’t reply, just shifted nervously. Ted let go of his son’s hand and moved himself to the other side of the room where there was a small sitting area. 

“Why is your chair on wheels?” The blond asked quietly.

“It’s easier to get around,” Ted explained simply. “My balance isn’t so great anymore. Why don’t you come sit with me?” He watched the blond shift a few more times before he finally moved from the doorway. He sat in the chair across from the older man so that the bed was still in view. “I’m Ted, Quentin’s father. What’s your name?”

“Cole. Is Quentin going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine. This happens sometimes.”

“I don’t like it,” Cole replied petulantly.

Ted couldn’t help but smile at the scowl on the younger man’s face. He reminded him of Quentin when he was a teenager. “I don’t like it either. It scared the crap out of me the first time it happened. I rushed him to the hospital and it took forever for them to figure out what was wrong.”

“What _is_ wrong?”

“He has something called depression. There are a lot of aspects to it, but the simplest way to describe it is an overwhelming sadness that takes away your will to do much of anything. Q describes it as his brain breaking.”

“Can he be fixed?” Cole asked hopefully. “If I had my powers, could I fix him?” 

“No, kiddo,” Ted said with a sad smile. “There’s nothing you can do. Magic can’t make him better. There are medications he can take to help though. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure he starts taking them again.”

Neither man spoke for a few minutes after that, but Cole continued to glance nervously at Quentin. Finally Ted asked, “You’re him aren’t you? The monster from the castle?” He watched the other man flinch at the word monster.

“I don’t like that word,” The blond replied with a frown, looking down at his lap. “I – there are gods worse than me. Do _you_ think I’m a – that I’m _that_?”

“I think you care about my son. I don’t think a monster could do that.”

“He’s my friend.”

“You’re a good friend to him. You brought him to people who could help.”

“They made my castle out of living stone. It stopped me from leaving with my magic. When I found Quentin like that, at first I thought he was playing a new kind of game, but I couldn’t wake him up. I – I didn’t know what to do. He told me about this place, showed it to me in his memories. He said if anything bad happened, his friends here would help. I pulled the image up in my mind and tried to travel, but nothing happened. There were other creatures in my castle at the beginning. I devoured them and absorbed their power. I never used it before but I had to try. I – I didn’t want him to leave me. Quentin takes care of me.”

“Hey,” Ted said softly, laying his hand on Cole’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine. It might take a few days or a few weeks, but he’ll come around and things will be just like before.”

“His friends – will they lock me up again?”

“Do you plan to hurt anyone?” 

“There are gods who took something from me, hurt me. I want to hurt them back, but Quentin said that’s bad. He said it might feel good in the moment, but it won’t change things. It won’t undo the hurt they caused me. He said he wants me to be good so the gods won’t be afraid and I can be free.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you sure he’s going to wake up?”

“He will, I promise.”

“Can I – is it okay if I stay with him for a while?”

“I think he’d like that,” Ted replied with a smile. “I’m kind of tired myself. I think I’ll go take a nap. I’ll be back in a little while alright?”

Cole nodded and moved towards the bed. He waited for Ted to leave before he climbed up and laid down next to Quentin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this came to me a few weeks ago as I was getting ready for bed. Sorry it took so long to get it up. I haven't had a chance to type it up.

Penny-23 popped into existence in Whitespire’s informal dining room just in time for breakfast. The whole gang was already sitting at the table, Ted Coldwater included, and they each had a morose look on their face. “Jesus, who died?” He asked. Kady looked at him incredulously before storming out of the room. “Ok, poor choice of words,” he mumbled. Julia stood and took his hand, leading him out to the hall where she explained what was going on. 

“Could you – you know – incept him? Maybe get him to wake up?” She asked nervously. “I mean – you don’t have to or anything. I know Q’s not your favorite person and anyway it might not even work if you do. It’s just –”

“I get it,” He interrupted. He probably would have told anyone else to fuck off, but this was Julia asking. True, she wasn’t _his_ Julia, but it was still hard to say no to her, which is why he found himself sitting on the floor of a small ante-chamber off the throne room. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said to himself before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and focusing. When he opened his eyes, he saw a literal wall of darkness. There were a few weak lights interspersed on the floor, but nothing else was around. “What the fuck?” He muttered. He shouted Quentin’s name a few times, but heard nothing in response. He walked up to the wall and lightly pressed against it. It was like turning the power on a TV. A small section of the wall turned clear and he saw the nerd lying on a circular bed inside a cell where the bars were made of lights. “What kind of bizarre ass world is this?” Penny-23 mumbled to himself.

“So, is this where you went after you spit out the scorpion?” A version of Penny wearing a dull grey suit asked as he appeared next to the bed. 

“Not quite,” Quentin replied softly. “The circle was smaller and there was no bed.”  
23 watched the Penny before him sit on the bed facing Quentin. “Want to explain to me what’s going on?”

The shorter man let out a heavy sigh before replying. “It’s just your everyday, mind numbing bout of depression.”

“You plan on snapping out of it anytime soon? It wasn’t a fun experience the last time you were trapped in your head and your boy is kind of a mess.”

“Which one?” Quentin scoffed. 

“Probably all of them. You’re not in Blackspire anymore. The monster gave up his powers to bring you to Whitespire. You know, you might be the only person in the _universe_ who decides to befriend and tame a monster so dangerous literal gods are afraid of it instead of running away in fear.”

“Yeah, well, broken brain remember? Besides, when I looked at him, I saw a curious child who didn’t understand much about life or the world, not some hideous, bloodthirsty beast." Quentin paused for a minute before he said, "I didn’t think we’d ever leave Blackspire. I certainly didn’t expect him to give up his powers for me. But I could tell where we were the minute he travelled. I could smell Margo’s perfume. I could feel Eliot and Teddy when they held me. I could hear Cole talking to my dad. I wasn’t sure if he’d still be alive.”

“I don’t know how much longer he’s got,” Penny said gently. “I promise I’ll take good care of him when he comes down.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said, a half smile appearing on his face for a few seconds, “I know you will.” A headboard suddenly materialized and the two men changed their positions to sit against it. “I don’t know why you’re so tuned in to my ‘channel’ – probably something Jane did, but I’m grateful. I never got a chance to thank you for all your help with and after the web spell. You saved my life so many times, not just with the knife. For all the arguing and being a dick, you really are a good guy. I’m sorry you died. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I knew what I was getting myself into to help Kady and I’d do it again if I had the choice. I’ve made my peace with my death. My only regret is that I didn’t get more time with the woman I love. Don’t let that happen to you. You and Eliot – you guys have something special. He’s your soulmate. It’s why you were drawn to each other in the first place. Jane’s meddling may have pushed you toward Alice, but you were always meant to be with him. Don’t let his insecurities push you away. Fight for him.”

“What if I’m tired of fighting? Tired of hurting? Tired of giving away my heart only to be told I’m not good enough and have it viciously thrown back at me.”

“Q, he loved you for fifty straight years and across 41 timelines. Sure, in a handful of timelines you and Alice were a thing until the end, but for nearly all of them, it was you and Waugh against the world.”

“I really miss you,” Quentin said, lying his head against Penny’s shoulder. “You’re my brother from another mother.”

“Loser,” Penny said with a laugh, giving the shorter man a shove and earning a laugh in return. 

________________ 

Penny-23 had no idea what the two men on the other side of the wall were talking about. In his timeline, he wasn’t tuned in to Quentin’s mind, no one got stabbed, and he didn’t want to know what this web thing they mentioned was. Just before he pulled out of Quentin’s mind, he noticed the wall change from black to dark gray.

“Did it work?” Julia asked as soon as he opened his eyes. “Did you see him? Is he okay?”

“I guess so,” Penny said as he stood up from the floor. “He’s got a visitor in there with him that seems to be helping.”

“A visitor?” Julia asked, her eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“Let’s just say a certain version of me from a certain timeline took a work break to visit him and his mind is a little brighter for it.”


End file.
